Proven Innocent
by the stargate time traveller
Summary: AU. Post Reichenbach Falls. The friends and family of Sherlock Holmes race to prove the deceased detective's innocence. Please read and review.
1. Chapter 1

I don't own Sherlock, the BBC knowns Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's detective. I had this idea whilst I was lying in bed, and it sort of _clicked _into place.

Like a jigsaw.

**Proven Innocen**t.

The First Pieces.

4 months. It was hard to believe it had been less than 4 months. For Mycroft Holmes, it felt like a lifetime since his brother's death. He was sitting in a comfortable, expensive, armchair, in front of a burning fire, and drinking from a glass of brandy. In another time and place, Mycroft would find the soundings of his home to be comforting, the smell of the burning wood making him feel that even in the world he lived in, the world people believed was simple, you could still enjoy the small comforts. But Mycroft wasn't comfortable, hadn't been since his brother had died. Since then only two thoughts dominated Mycroft's being; redeem himself for giving Moriarty the ammunition, as Dr. John Watson had correctly referred to it, the master criminal had needed to destroy his brother, the world's first consulting detective, even if Mycroft had thought the idea was a mistake, seeing as the police hadn't wanted Sherlock anywhere near their crime scenes, let alone wanted the help of a man who seemed to thrive on seeing the dead. Mycroft was aware that many in the force, oh how low they'd gone this time, had resented his dear brother.

The second was simply to get back at the people who'd forced his brother into jumping off that roof, and Mycroft Holmes wasn't going to back down from using his authority to make the lives of the people he believed responsible for Sherlocks death from paying the price. Acting on his own authority was something Mycroft was used to doing, in fact he did it regularly. But he'd never done it for personal reasoning.

Mycroft took a sip of brandy, barely tasting it, and swilled it around his mouth. It tasted bitter.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Mycroft strode through the Ministry building he worked in, his body language screaming <em>don't interfere with me, I'm not leaving until I get what I want, <em>as he walked through the halls and corridors, but then again seeing as how he used this portrayal of her personality no one was really bothered. Entering an office, and dropping his coat and suitcase on a chair, but pausing to remove a file from the case, Mycroft walked on until he met a colleague. Mycroft didn't stop to chat like he normally would, he was a man determined to get what he wanted, and he was far from afraid to do it. He wasn't going to let a conversation stop or cheat him.

" Mr Holmes, they're inside," She reported, trying to match Mycrofts long strides.

" Good," Was all Mycroft said, his eyes forward as he marched on towards his destination.

The young woman took in a deep breath, " Sir, are you sure this is a wise..." She didn't say what she intended to say, and Mycroft knew it. Mycroft stopped walking, realising that moving and talking would mean convincing this woman that he was working on a personal vendetta. That was the last thing the elder Holmes wanted. He'd worked hard to convince the Bruhl family, and his own superiors to allow him to get to the bottom of what his brother had supposedly done. Mycroft knew his brother well, and regardless of what people in the police liked to believe, he knew Sherlock would never kidnap a child, let alone two children of the American Ambassador. Mycroft had jumped in, making sure to keep his identity a secret from the Bruhls, and letting other government people convince them that they simply wanted to know the truth. When Mycroft had stepped in, and revealed his identity, the Bruhls had been furious, this was the brother of the man who'd kidnapped their children. But Mycroft had used the dirtiest trick available to him; he took the ambassador aside, and whispered a few choice words into his ear. The ambassador, pompous to Mycroft's standards, had gone grey in terror at what Mycroft had promised to be revealed, and after a shouting match with his wife, which Mycroft hadn't watched since it didn't interest him much as long as he got what he wanted, the Bruhls had agreed.

Mycroft did feel a tinge of guilt about doing that to the family after the nightmare Moriarty had put their children through, but since he himself had a third of responsibility for what had happened to Sherlock, that guilt was pushed aside.

Taking a deep breath, Mycroft explained himself, " Miss Tranter, " He said, recalling her name from a distant memory. If there's one thing he and his lamented brother had in common, it was their memory of faces and images. " I want to get to the truth of the incident in question, and I want to have an airtight case. Do I think this is wise? Yes, I do. I have managed to convince the Bruhl family and my superiors that the truth shall set them free, as it were."

Without saying another word, he walked away. Mycroft, like Sherlock, was an expert in reading body language, and he'd seen from the eyes of the woman Tranter that she believed his brother was guilty. He wasn't surprised. Most of the country did as well, and he would make the media pay for that. Mycroft was looking forward to using his connections to making sure the media fired the ones responsible and the police force from hounding his brother. It was the least he could do to redeem himself, even if he was too late. And that hurt Mycroft Holmes even more.

Claudie Bruhl and her brother, Max, were sitting in the interrogation table, and both looked frightened, and as Mycroft stood outside, watching them through the one way mirror, he wondered what Moriarty could've done to make Claudie sow the first seeds that led the police to arresting Sherlock. A number of possibilities entered his mind, but he wanted conclusive proof. The Bruhl's had done a good job holding the press off from their family, and hadn't exposed the masses of more dirt on Sherlock. What ever happened to respecting the dead?

He turned to a man next to him, " Is it recording?" He asked, knowing the answer. In interrogations of the British government, everything was recorded. The man nodded.

" Good," Mycroft replied, and walked into the room.

Claudie and Max were both frightened, but they'd been told by their parents that someone in the Brit government would speak to them. Neither child liked Britain, especially after their ordeal, but their parents had told them that as the American ambassadorial family, they were powerful people, and that no one in their right mind would kidnap them.

How wrong they'd been.

Mycroft strode in and sat down, arranging the file in front of him for a moment, before he folded his hands and regarded the two children with the patience of a saint. If Mycroft had heard that, he would've laughed. He wasn't a saint, and he certainly didn't feel like one.

The Bruhl children waited for Mycroft to speak, they'd been told that the people in Britain liked to let their...prisoners sweat a little, but they didn't realise that Mycroft was simply looking for the best angle to tackle the problem at hand. Master criminals, issues with the nation, Mycroft could handle them. But children were another matter.

As kindly as he could, Mycroft began, " I'm delighted you're both well. You must be interested to know why you are here." Leaning forward Mycroft carried on, uncaring about the children's thoughts, " I would like to know how you'd come to be kidnapped?" He asked.

Both children exchanged a look of fright, but their fear meant nothing to the determined Holmes, " I have a recording I want you to listen to, and I want to know if you can remember it from your ordeal."

Mycroft took out his mobile and played the recording, watching as both children paled in fear when they heard Moriarty's cold, insane voice, Mycroft couldn't blame them. Both children had been kidnapped, starved, fed chocolate with minute amounts of mercury to poison them, and Mycroft knew from the reports of the hospital that both children had been beaten many times. If that didn't cause trauma then Mycroft didn't know what did.

Mycroft stopped the recording, having had more than enough of hearing the voice of the man who'd pushed his brother over the edge, and regarded the Bruhl children, " Do you remember that voice?" he asked gently; Claudie looked like she was going to either scream or pass out, Mycroft wasn't sure which, and Max. Max had been the primary sufferer in this, he'd been in a nasty state, and now he was being forced to relive the ordeal.

Claudie bravely replied in a soft voice, but Mycroft heard everything, " He...he kidnapped us, dragged us from our room in the school. Max smeared linseed oil on the room, and on his shoes."

The rest of the story was how ' Sherlock' beaten them with his fists and feet, and with a wooden plank. Both children had been fed lots of chocolate, 'which tasted weird,' their words, so they wouldn't starve. Mycroft's eyes went cold when he heard from Claudie's perspective about how Sherlock had walked into the room after they'd been rescued. Here was the man who'd kidnapped them, force fed them chocolate, and beat them almost to death. Would he do it again? So, she'd screamed in terror.

When the story ended, Mycroft showed them a photograph of Moriarty, and Claudie and Max both screamed, or gasped in Max's case, and Mycroft hurriedly put it away to stop the shrill sound from breaking his skull.

" You know him?" Mycroft asked pointlessly; he was pleased, so whatever Moriarty had done to frame Sherlock hadn't stopped him from revealing his face once or twice.

Face grey with insurmountable terror, Claudie babbled, " He was there too! He was there when that - that monster beat Max up!"

Mycroft leaned forward, " He was there with the man?" He pressed, " Were they both there, together, in the same place? Both men?"

Both children nodded. Mycroft took his mobile and adjusted the voice recorder so then another voice sample popped up. " Now, Claudie and Max, I'm going to play another voice for you, and I want to know if you both know it?"

Watching the Bruhl children closely, as the voice was played.

Sherlocks voice, sarcastic, biting, played out, and Mycroft wished he were here right now. Mycroft watched both children, knowing that his questions would exonerate Sherlock, and restore his reputation.

" Do you this voice?" Mycroft asked after he stopped the recording, he'd seen both children's faces, and they were negative.

Both Bruhl children shook their heads, a look of confusion of their faces.

As Mycroft was questioning the Bruhl children, some of his people were raiding Kitty Riley's home. Ever since she'd broken the story claiming Sherlock Holmes as a fraud, she'd risen in prominence, but she hadn't left her flat because Mycroft had used his influence to stop her leaving. It hadn't been too difficult, and Mycroft had a reason. He knew that Moriarty, under the alias Richard Brooke, had stayed there for a time. Mycroft had carefully scheduled the search to coincide with his questioning of the Bruhl children, but so far they had found very little.

The searchers were about to give up when one of them called out to his equally bored supervisor after only 45 minutes of searching through it all.

" Sir, look." The man said, holding out a book and a mask.

The supervisor took the mask into his gloved hand, and looked at it carefully. The mask was quite lumpy but the face was recognisable. The face was that of Sherlock Holmes.


	2. Chapter 2

The Journal and the Mask.

Mycroft looked at the three pieces of evidence in front of him on his desk; the book, which had been found out to be a journal, the mask in the face of his brother and the DVD recording of his interview with the children. Three pieces, and already Mycroft was disturbed by their quality. He examined the journal first. On the cover were three photographs of his brother, and the words **" Get Sherlock," " Sherlock Holmes is mine," **and the more frightening, **" I O U." **Mycroft took a deep breath as he put his finger under the cover to open the damned thing and get it over with, but he hesitated as the sharp twinge of guilt returned, only the pain was more intense. Mycroft was responsible for telling Moriarty about Sherlock, as John Watson had so painfully told him in the light of that bitch Kitty Riley's stories about him. A voice that sounded like Moriarty's said with a sneer, " _What's wrong, Mycroft, can't you face your own sins? Your own demons? Don't you want to know how obsessed I was when I pushed your brother over the edge? Just think, what would Sherlock do?" _

It was the reminder about Sherlock that pulled Mycroft together, and he opened the book and started to read. After only reading for a few minutes he felt ill, the way Moriarty had hunted his detective brother because of him was another blow. Moriarty had been intrigued, no obsessed by Sherlock, how fascinated he'd been by Carl Power's death. A death caused by Moriarty himself by poison, a murder that Sherlock had found suspicious because of something that the police had considered irrelevant. Mycroft recalled only too well how Moriarty had been fascinated by how Sherlock had believed the murder of the sports champion to be suspicious because the shoes he'd loved and worn, polished almost reverently everyday were missing.

It had been that mystery that sparked off Moriarty's obsession of Sherlock, an obsession helped by his own brother unintentionally. Heart as cold as ice, Mycroft skimmed through the book, trying to mask his pain, and found that even though Moriarty had been a criminal genius, he'd also been complacent enough to believe that his journal would never be found in a million years after his own death. The journal also went into incredible detail about how the criminal genius had pasted his own face onto that of Richard Brooke, a man he'd found easily after that Reichenbach story that made Sherlock's name, and where the man was and the original file. Moriarty had kept the original file in case it might come in handy to do another identity change, although how he'd manage it Mycroft didn't know, and frankly didn't care. Fortunately, Brooke was alive in a house under guard, and Mycroft would have him broken out. The journal also reported how Moriarty had gotten his hands on the H.O.U.N.D gas, and used that to make his kidnap of the Bruhl children that more credible. The criminal genius had been helped by another man, his name wasn't in the journal unfortunately, meaning even in death Moriarty was still proving to be a sly one.

It wasn't just the obsession with Sherlock that Moriarty had written, every crime he'd ever committed, every contact, everything was in the book. It read like an autobiography.

Mycroft wondered why Moriarty had written such a journal, but deduced that he'd written it like he'd thought of writing a diary. It was credible, but just a bit stupid. There was a reason, and only Moriarty, who was now dead, knew what that was. Putting the journal aside, Mycroft turned his attention to the mask, and the report next to it. Moriarty had had DNA samples taken from him when he'd first arrived, when he was unconscious. The report indicated what he already guessed. The mask had had some DNA belonging to Moriarty, along with the top secret H.O.U.N.D formula on the 'skin.'

Mycroft looked up, and smiled. His brother was truly innocent.

* * *

><p>If Mycroft Holmes had thought he was the only one to believe he was the only one with evidence capable of clearing Sherlock's name, he was more arrogant than Sherlock and John Watson had imagined. Molly Hooper had been working hard the last few months on finding forensic evidence similar to the one already found by Mycroft. As of right now, the existence of the journal was known only to a few, but Molly had been working on the case for months on top of her own work. She'd almost forsaken her own social life to clear Sherlocks name. She kept the information at home, hiding it when she went out in case Moriarty's influence rose from beyond the grave. As Molly worked, she remembered her last conversation with Sherlock...<p>

_Molly was putting together the final stages of the plan Sherlock had come up with in preparation with his final meeting with Moriarty. Occasionally, the two would send each other looks - Molly would look sad, and Sherlock would look melancholic, and sad as well. Molly asked as she worked. _

" _I heard from Donovan earlier," She said as she was working, glancing up to see that Sherlock was watching her, his ice blue eyes showing Molly only too well what he thought of the arrogant and condescending police sergeant who'd fallen into Moriarty's web of lies. _

" _What did she say?" Sherlock asked, although Molly could tell he knew he was only asking as a formality. Both knew how she and her cheating boyfriend, Anderson, felt about Sherlock. _

" _She said she was right about you," Molly replied, looking Sherlock straight in the eyes, her body language telling the detective what she really thought, **I believe you didn't do it, and if Donovan and Lestrade think you did kidnap those kids then they don't deserve being called detectives. **Sherlock caught on the body language, and smiled softly. A far cry from his usual smirk. " She said you'd kidnapped those kids, and that Claudie screamed when she saw you. Donovan, and Anderson, believe you kidnapped them."_

" _Why do you believe I didn't do it?" Sherlock asked. Molly nodded. The question was a logical one, and she'd expected it from Sherlock. She took a deep breath, " Because if you'd wanted to kidnap them you'd do it in such a way that they wouldn't see you coming," Molly began and then added, " Claudie screamed when she saw your face, no kidnapper in their right mind would make that mistake. If you'd done that then you'd do it so then you wouldn't get caught." Molly took slow breaths and saw Sherlock smile. _

" _Very good, good deductions." _

_Molly smiled timidly, " Thanks." Then she frowned, " Why do you think Claudie screamed like that? What could Jim, I mean Moriarty have done to do a thing like that? Could he had brainwashed them, or something?" She asked, shuddering in hatred at the thought of the man she'd dated briefly. How could he do this? _

_Sherlock frowned, and Molly smiled at the sight of the usual way Sherlock thought; eyes staring, mind whirling one hundred miles per hour as his mind tried to make sense of the puzzle. _

" _No, I doubt he used brainwashing. Too simple, too mundane. No, Moriarty used something else, something poetic, something complex ...now, what is it?" He asked himself, staring away again. Molly went back to her computer, and then caught the sight of her favourites bar. She opened it on autopilot, and found herself looking at the icon of John Watson's blog. She opened it, and came across the Hounds of Baskerville case. _

" _Sherlock," She said trying to get his attention. _

" _Sssh! Busy thinking," Sherlock snapped at her. Undaunted, Molly carried on, " What about that drug used in that Baskervilles case, couldn't Moriarty have found out about that?" _

_Sherlock's mind ground to a halt as he remembered two things; the first being the mental state of Henry Knight, and himself when he'd been exposed to it. Both of them had fallen under the influence, and they saw and heard things that made them hallucinate. In Henry and his own casee, it'd been a simple matter of seeing something that terrified them. How appropriate that Sherlock Holme's fear had been Jim Moriarty, the man who'd gotten him into this mess in the first place. _

_Rushing to the computer Molly was at, Sherlock made a face, " Don't tell me you actually read this?'_

" _Of course I do, I like hearing about how you do stuff, even if you make yourself look-" Molly smirked, then looked down as she caught Sherlock's look of annoyance. _

_Sherlock's eyes softened, " I'm sorry, Molly. I think you're right about the means, but how can you be so sure it's that particular drug?"_

" _I can't," Molly admitted sadly, " But maybe Moriarty used something similar and less dangerous. Listen, both the Bruhl kids are in hospital. I can use my own contacts to getting me some of their DNA. I can see if they've got any chemicals in their systems, and experiment to see if they're hallucinogenics. I can do that, I can do that here." She added when she saw Sherlock shaking his head. _

" _No, no it's too dangerous," _

_Molly smirked, " So, you do care about me?" She said cheekily. Then she grew serious, " It's the only way of knowing for sure. Besides, do you honestly think Moriarty'll come after me? He saw the way you treated me," she added looking down. _

_Molly jumped when Sherlock gently put his hand on her shoulder, and she stared into his eyes, " I am so sorry Molly." _

_Molly gave a shaky smile, " It's okay," Then in her most assertive voice, she said, " Let's get to it then, I need to get the samples from the hospital those kids are at, and we need to do some checking."_

" _Check after it's happened, but make preparations now," Sherlock instructed, " Can you get any information from Anderson's lab?"_

_Molly nodded, " Yeah, I know one or two people there. I don't have to deal with Anderson." Molly grimaced at the thought of the man. Anderson irritated and annoyed Molly, in much the same way he did for Sherlock. With Molly, it was different. Anderson was rude, patronising, he liked treating people like they were beneath him, and Molly was no exception. _

_Sherlock looked hesitant, and then he bent down and kissed her on the lips gently, startling Molly. " Thank you," he whispered. _

Molly snapped her mind out of the memory, and focused on her work. To some people, those who knew how Molly had been treated by Sherlock Holmes, they wondered why Molly was trying to prove so hard that Sherlock was innocent. What they didn't know was how Sherlock had been when Molly had seen him last. Sherlock had been on the point of oblivion, and no one, not even John Watson, had seen it, not until it was too late. Some people, Anderson and Donovan amongst them, had said Sherlock was a psychopath, a freak, an emotionless beast, but Molly had seen him differently.

Sherlock had brokenly opened up to her, and she wasn't going to let him down, not after nearly everyone else had.


	3. Chapter 3

The Rescue of Richard Brook.

Richard Brook, children entertainer, was living in a prison, chained to the bed, and unable to move. He didn't know who'd kidnapped him, and he wasn't sure how long he'd been here. He was spoonfed food, and guarded day and night. The thugs who'd been assigned to watch him didn't waver in their vigilance, they were clearly frightened by who they worked for. Once or twice, Brook would be allowed to get up and use the bathroom, but most times he was chained to the bed.

He didn't cry. He'd learnt no one was coming.

He was alone.

The rescue party had spend the last 3 days reconnoitering the area, and now they were confident about what they were facing. They knew that there were two thugs watching over their hostage, and their approach took place at night. One group scaled the walls with suction pads, and the second group circled the house. The house itself was an old cottage in a remote point of Lancashire, and there was no where really for the men inside to go to.

The two men were sitting down to dinner, it was a simple meal, soaking in fat. This had been the routine for the past 4 months, and the two men knew better than to go against their boss's orders. They remembered only too well to what happened to the last man that did, he'd died not long after from his injuries.

Both men shoveled their food into their waiting maws, ignoring the tray of food for their prisoner. They would feed him in another hour. It was the only decent meal he'd get in a day.

Suddenly, the doors were smashed open, and a black stream of masked and armed men burst into the room before the thugs could do anything about them. " STAY DOWN! DON'T MOVE! YOU'RE UNDER ARREST, DON'T MOVE!" The soldiers ordered, constantly repeating themselves, bellowing orders.

Brook was crying when his hands and legs were freed from the bed, and he put his face in his hands and cried. The unfortunate man was taken to a nearby car that would take him back to London for questioning and treatment.

The men took the thugs away for questioning as well, both stoic as they were led away. Neither man had put up much of a fight, they'd failed, and they knew that their boss wouldn't forgive that. If they'd known their leader was dead, then they'd have put up more of a fight.

The men searched the cottage, and it wasn't long before they found a laptop filled with all sorts of information that would help Mycroft Holmes' cause.

Two days later saw Mycroft Holmes reading the analysis of what had been on the computer, and the report of what had happened to Brooks. Brook had been more than willing to spill the beans about his kidnapping. Since he hadn't been such a major part of Moriarty's plan, Brook hadn't been traumatised when he saw Sherlock's face like the Bruhl children had been. Instead, when he saw a picture of Moriarty's face, the TV presenter had reacted violently, he'd leapt back with a scream of fright. The laptop contained the record of Moriarty changing, _changing_, the file on the victimised presenter.

Mycroft had taken the information to the top, and he'd appealed, using all his political strength to order the clearing of his brother's name. Many didn't care about a mere detective's innocence, and when it was revealed that Moriarty's strength hadn't been a computer code of his own design, but more of the tried and true insider, the government's interest in Moriarty faded, and now the government thought that it was a closed case.

Mycroft could do as he wished.


	4. Chapter 4

Confrontations at the Yard.

It had taken Molly Hopper a week to get John Watson out of his funk, and the young woman could see how the last few months had taken their toil on the poor doctor. The man had helped her when he could over a 4 month period of time, but Molly would never forget how difficult it had been to get John to help her. She'd been tempted, more than once, to actually tell him the truth.

When she'd first met John Watson, he'd been holding himself together, clearly haunted by the things he'd seen during the war, but holding himself with sheer will. Sherlock had given Dr. John Watson a new lease on life, and now that lease was gone. Molly wished she could reveal the truth to him, but she'd been sworn to secrecy, like in those spy movies. But this wasn't a movie, and she knew if she revealed the truth then a man's life would truly be over, and his blood would be on her hands.

" What's this about, Molly?" Watson asked wearily, an edge to his normally mild mannered voice. Molly took a good look at him, John looked like he'd aged more than his middle age suggested.

" Before he died," Molly began, knowing the subject of Sherlock would hurt the man more than he already was, but she'd decided to tell him a partial truth. It was the worst kind of lie, but she needed his support. " Sherlock made me investigate a few things, and I've got a few bits of data, but-"

" Molly, Sherlocks' dead. Let him rest in peace," John said firmly, a glint of rage in his eyes at the apparent intrusion.

But Molly wasn't having it, " No, John. I was there too, at the funeral, you saw Anderson and Donovan's glee. I want nothing more than to make them regret that."

John's face contorted at the thought of those two self righteous bastards. Sergeant Donovan had warned him about Sherlock being a psychopath, and the arrogant bitch had lorded it over him when the police had come to arrest Sherlock, a man who'd helped them many times over. John had wanted, that night, to break her face. Instead he'd had to settle for a pompous superintendent.

Molly had a small smile on her face, it was cruel, but she knew she was close to winning.

" Don't you want him to be vindicated, for the media to kick that bitch Riley out for spreading lies?"

John nodded. Molly had won.

Four months later...

" Is this it?" John asked as he looked over the files. They weren't too thick, but they were full of information that screamed innocence. Molly and he had worked hard on this, and they were prepared.

Molly nodded, " Yeah, all my results. What worries me is that hardly any of this will work to clear Sherlock's name."

" Oh, I think it will. Mycroft'll help." John replied, remembering the text. When he saw Molly's confusion, he explained. When he'd finished Molly looked furious, " You mean Sherlock's _brother _gave Moriarty all that dirt printed in the media?"

John nodded, " He's been working on different angles than we have. I only just found out about it today. He met me, kidnapped me, and told me to meet him at the yard."

Molly pursed her lips. Sherlock had told her his suspicions about where Moriarty had got that rubbish, and she'd be proud her amateur dramatics training had stopped her revealing too much about what she knew, but that didn't mean she was happy. She was delighted Mycroft Holmes had been working to clear his brother, but she wasn't too happy about the prospect of meeting the man.

" Let's go," She said, picking up the gear. Molly's heart was pounding in anticipation for this.

* * *

><p>Mycroft Holmes wasn't surprised to see Molly arrive with John, but he didn't say a word to the young doctor when he saw her. He'd clearly known about her work, in fact Mycroft had stepped in to help her without revealing his aid whenever someone questioned why St. Bartholomew's Hospital was demanding for medical information about the Bruhl children. Even Molly had been stunned by the ease, but now John had seen Mycroft's face when he saw Molly, he realised that Mycroft had been helping even if his direction had been different.<p>

" John," Mycroft greeted warily; the last time these two men had met it hadn't ended amicably.

" Mycroft," John's voice was cold but mild.

Molly looked between the two men, the tension making her nervous, " Can we go inside, please?" She pleaded nervously.

Inside the Yard, Chief Superintendent Church was sitting nervously, with DI Lestrade, DS Donovan and Anderson nearby. Church was sweating like a pig, it was rare that government officials visited the yard, but when they did it was to announce it at the last minute.

Donovan's arms were folded, her body language and expression sickening Lestrade as it seemed to say _I was right, we were taken for a ride, but I was the only one to see it, _but the DI was more curious than irritated by the summons.

" I don't see what this is all about," Anderson spoke up at last, and Lestrade fought the urge to grit his teeth. Even though he'd hidden his loathing for the arse better than Sherlock, Lestrade hated Anderson just as much as the consulting detective had. Lestrade, unlike the others, hadn't believed that Sherlock had kidnapped those kids, he'd seen the astonishment in Claudie Bruhl's eyes when he ordered Sherlock out of the interview room when the little girl had screamed her head off, but Anderson and Donovan had gone above him to prove their animosity to Church. Lestrade hadn't associated much with either of them after, their gloating had been obnoxious to him.

Church was shaking from nerves, " Your guess is as good as mine, but we should be seeing this man soon."

" Probably someone who's gonna congratulate us for proving the freak was a fraud," Donovan added her own opinion. Lestrade shot her a look, and if looks would kill then Donovan would be dead. Surprisingly non else had see the look.

When Mycroft Holmes strode into the room, followed by Molly Hooper and John Watson, Church shot out of his chair whilst the other officers stood or sat there, their mouths open in shock at the unexpected arrivals. Church pointed at Watson, " He's under arrest! He hit me!" he whined pathetically.

This was news to Mycroft, he turned to face John, who was looking at the rooms other occupants with contempt, " What did he do, John?" He asked mildly, a little angry that his schedule was being upset by this latest development. The elder Holmes was more than convinced by Church's accusations, John Watson had been an experienced soldier, and he had never hesitated to protect Sherlock.

John pointed to Church, " He basically insulted Sherlock, and I punched him to shut him up. The pig cried like a spoilt brat, and I was hauled away whilst this smirking cow sneered at me as she led me away in cuffs." He indicated Donovan, who certainly wasn't sneering now.

" What did he say about Sherlock?" Mycroft asked, his voice no more than a whisper.

" He called him a vigilante, really." John replied.

Mycroft could see that there'd been more to it than that, and he regarded the police superintendent without expression. " I see. Do you normally say that about people who risk their lives to help fight for justice?"

Church didn't answer, he didn't know what to say. Donovan, not knowing about this man's link to Sherlock, sneered, " Risk his life? You mean the freak, a man who kidnapped those kids? We had the proof-"

" Shut up, Donovan!" Lestrade barked, he'd let Donovan dig her own grave, but now he had a good idea about who this was. It would've been great to see Donovan try and climb out of the trap, but he wanted her to sweat a little when she found out who he was.

Donovan looked at her DI with shock, " Sir, he-"

" This is Mycroft Holmes," Lestrade interrupted, trying to stop the smirk appearing on his face, delighting in Donovan's shock and sudden fear. " This is Sherlock Holme's brother, he works for the British government."

As Donovan spluttered in terror, realising that with this Holmes she wouldn't be able to get away with as much, Mycroft approached her, " Do you normally insult grieving family members when a loved one is dead, Detective Sergeant, or do you arrogantly believe that your rank can protect you from the repercussions?" Donovan backed away from the clearly angry civil servant, Mycroft's eyes were calm, but Donovan was smart enough to see the rage behind those same eyes.

" My brother respected you, did you know that?" Mycroft asked, enjoying the look of shock on her face, " But he didn't like your insults because he felt that you should be a better observer. In my opinion, do you want to know my opinion?" Mycroft asked, carrying on before the flustered woman could answer him, " You should never have become a policewoman. Not only do you not have the talent for solving puzzles Sherlock has, but you also lack the respect and decorum a police officer needs in order to interact with the public. After I leave, you will pack your things, and I will issue you your notice. Then you can find a different job more into your scope." Mycroft whispered in a voice like honey, but everyone could hear the British government in his voice.

Mycroft turned to face the shell shocked Church, and handed him a file taken from his suitcase, " Have you got the DVD player I requested?"

After they'd watched the DVD of the interviews with Claudie Bruhl and Richard Brook and the two thugs in Moriarty's emply, Mycroft, John and Molly enjoyed the looks on the police officer's faces as they realised Moriarty had fed them lies, and they'd eaten them all up. It got worse when Molly added her own evidence. Anderson normally would've sneered in disdain when he saw Molly, but not he was too busy thinking _we're doomed, we were taken for a ride, but Sherlock Holmes was the victim, _and when Molly gave her evidence to Sherlock's innocence, Church was now thinking that he was due for an early retirement.

" The Bruhl children were exposed to a drug, similar to the one used in that Hounds of Baskerville case," Molly reported. Lestrade shuddered as he remembered only too well how Sherlock had been exposed to the drug, he'd muttered, " Moriarty - no," and Lestrade was more convinced than ever that Sherlock had been innocent. " It's a hallucinogenic agent, and if you wear something that shows what you want the victim to see and fear, then you can make that fear realistic."

Mycroft took out a folded piece of plastic holding a mask, and dumped a file on it, " There's DNA in that Sherlock mask, the DNA belongs to James Moriarty, and this file," he added handing the police the file the secret service and the government had on the man proved there was no doubt they'd been played for fools, " You've been made to look like fools." Mycroft summarised, trying hard not to laugh in their faces.

Church was now more than convinced he would be seeing early retirement. Mycroft took out of his suitcase Sherlock's mobile, and replayed the recording Sherlock had made. Lestrade had been stunned, so had the others in fact, but John was focusing on him, that Sherlock's suicide hadn't been planned, John was as surprised as he was, even more so when Sherlock had clearly committed suicide to protect him, Mrs Hudson and Lestrade. That was the thing that made Lestrade break down. Sherlock Holmes had thought of him as a friend, and yet he'd gone and committed suicide after he, the DI had issued a warrant for his arrest, and now there was no way for him to make amends.

* * *

><p>A few days later, the headlines read<strong> " THE TRUTH SHALL SET YOU FREE - SHERLOCK HOLMES NOT A FRAUD! MORIARTY A REAL MAN!" <strong>

" **MEDIA AND SCOTLAND YARD TAKEN FOR A RIDE BY MASTER CRIMINAL!" **or " **SHERLOCK VINDICATED!" **

The stories were simple; they outlined what had happened to Sherlock, just as they did after he'd died, only this time they revealed the ghastly truth of what Moriarty had done. The story of how Moriarty had used the hallucinogen uncovered by Holmes, and used it on children was a blow to the country. The mask, the DVD evidence was released, and clips were shown of it, showing a clearly terrified Claudie and Richard Brook, the real Richard Brook, talk about how Moriarty had kidnapped him, and stole his life from him just to drive someone to commit suicide. Brook left public life after that, determined never to speak to another member of the media again, showing his disgust for them. Kitty Riley, whose name had been made by the Moriarty is an actor story, found herself fired for not double checking her sources, and for helping in a conspiracy to drive a man to commit suicide. The media knew they couldn't keep her, and Mycroft used his connections to make sure the woman had a harder life than before. She deserved no less for the part she'd played in his brother's destruction.

An official apology was made of Sherlock Holmes, directed at the Holmes family, and the restoration of the worlds first consulting detective's reputation was made.

* * *

><p>John Watson stood with DI Lestrade, back as a friend, with Molly and Mycroft in front of Sherlock's gravestone. John had forgiven Lestrade, but he hadn't forgiven Mycroft, and probably never would for the events leading up to Sherlock's death, but he could forgive him for only one thing.<p>

Proving his brother innocent.

Molly said nothing, knowing the truth...

Sherlock will appear in my future story - Obsession. But please read and enjoy my story.


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